StarCraft: A New Year
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: January 1st, 2500. With the encroachment of rebels and aliens on Confederate space and the acceptance of General Duke into the Sons of Korhal, it seemed that the eve of the 26th century would be somewhat...unique.


_A/N_

_I'd originally intended to post this on or around Christmas Eve but time constraints, time zone differences, unpacking, etc. led me to postpone the release of the fic till later. Still, better late than never right?_

* * *

**A New Year**

**2255 hours, January 1, 2500 (SCT)**

**Antiga System, **_**Behemoth**_**-class battlecruiser **_**Hyperion**_

Michael Liberty never thought he'd find himself missing Tarsonis.

Then again, he never thought he'd be doing a lot of things. Encountering alien lifeforms above Mar Sara and on the planet itself, becoming a propagandist for a rebel/terrorist group… Hell, he never thought he'd be in a Fringe system in the first place. There was more than enough dirt on his homeworld to keep his career going, what with the random acts of violence in Tarsonis City, the dirty dealings of the Old Families and government…

Yet he missed it, or at least the world that Tarsonis became at this time of year. The giant Christmas trees that lined the streets, the fireworks of New Year's Eve, the…

"Sounds rather nice."

The reporter spun around, not expecting anyone to be on the bridge, given that Arcturus had let the crew have the rest of the day off, no doubt satisfied with the recent addition of General Duke to his ranks. Then again, Sarah Kerrigan didn't strike Michael as the type of person to take a holiday.

"You were reading my mind?" he asked, turning his gaze back to the plasteel windows, looking down at the world below.

"Sort of," said the Ghost, walking over. "You were basically crying in wistfulness."

"Alpha waves that intense?"

"Pretty much."

Mike sighed, longing for the days when psionic assassins were just a myth and alien invaders were something for B-rated holos. Admittedly he wasn't as taken aback by Kerrigan's telepathy as he'd been when he'd first encountered her on Mar Sara, but there was still a long road to go before he could feel normal when in conversation with the young woman. Not that conversation was needed here of course, the reporter continuing to remember the celebratory side of Tarsonis, knowing that Mengsk's second-in-command would be able to see what he imagined.

"You ever go down to Tarsonis?" Mike asked eventually, deciding that the silence had gone on long enough.

His 'friend' shrugged. "Once or twice. Always on business of course."

Mike decided he was glad he wasn't a telepath. He didn't need glimpses of what that 'business' was.

"Think Arcturus has made his resolutions yet?" asked Kerrigan, her green eyes boring into Mike's.

"Pardon?"

"With Duke. You know, deciding to give him a place in the Sons of Korhal. Think he resolved to lower the standards of entry?"

Mike shrugged uneasily. He'd had the same conversation with Raynor a few hours ago, one that had produced more revelations than he felt himself entitled to. Granted, Kerrigan was probably better at controlling her emotions, having been trained to do it for over a decade. On the other hand, after seeing her use her combat knife down on Antiga, he knew better than to cross her.

_Should be safe to speak my mind. After all, we're friends. She wouldn't give me the same treatment as the Confederates._

"True, but I can change."

_At shit. Telepathy._

"Indeed."

Mike sighed, deciding to bite the bullet. "It seems weird having Duke with us," he admitted, rummaging for a cigarette that didn't smell of cat urine. "But hey, we're trying to preserve humanity from alien invaders and Confederate tyranny right? Ends justify the means and all that?"

A shadow fell across Kerrigan's face, one that wasn't due to a faulty light. "Someone else thought that," she said softly, her gaze switching to that of Antiga Prime. "Seven years ago…"

Mike squirmed uneasily. Korhal...

"Still, I guess all we can do is trust our superior," the Ghost said eventually. "Arcturus knows what he's doing. We can trust him to do the right thing."

Mike was tempted to question that assessment, knowing the SOK's penchant for terrorist activity. Still, he kept his mouth shut. Whatever lengths Arcturus went to, it was still a far cry from what the Confederacy considered business as usual. And after all, bringing Duke onto his side wasn't exactly a violation of principle. They'd fought together in the Guild Wars after all. Hell, Jim had fought for the Confederacy in that conflict too, and Arcturus had never questioned _his _allegiance.

Then again, being punished for wiping out a zerg infestation would turn any man against his superiors…

"I guess you're right," said Kerrigan, Mike once again cursing himself for letting his thoughts run rampant. "We've got bigger things to worry about." With that, she turned to leave, Mike knowing the generalities of said things (zerg, the reports of the dispatch of the Colonial Fleet and Confederate Army), but deciding not to press the issue. Kerrigan had brought the conversation to a close and he knew it wasn't his place to drag it on.

"Oh, and Mike?" she asked, pausing at the doorway.

"Yes?" the reporter asked, having finally found a cigarette, being greeted by a rare smile from the assassin as well.

"Happy New Year."


End file.
